Forget the Words
by Aurora-Borealis Coyote
Summary: Even Sayaka can't destroy consequences, even Sayaka has to feel them.


The truth was, she had been feeling it, growing inside of her, numbing her and chiseling away excess thoughts. Sayaka's not going to lie to herself, not now. There's no reason to act as if she's going to get further ahead, and by now, she doesn't want to.

There isn't much to gain from wishing for what you can't have, is there?

Maybe if I'd just let Kyoko win, she had thought after she had woken up to Madoka screaming and crying into her limp body; maybe if I'd just have talked to Hitomi she had thought, but that wouldn't have given her what she needed.

Nothing can.

And as she can feel her soul twisting and becoming smothered, as she remembers what it was to not have to think about feeling- her head slumps, bowing into her chest, and her eyelids lower. By now, there's one thing she needs, but there's no way of getting it.

She hadn't found the right moment, the right place, to apologize to Madoka. But Madoka is so forgiving anyway- even of the worst fool she could ever come to know. She doesn't want to think about Madoka now – poor Madoka, you're so fortunate but you'll never understand as you are now, will you? I hope you never have to- Kyoko's made the greatest mistake already, maybe one day, Sayaka can almost hear herself thinking, soon she'll show the toll it's taken on her.

The truth was, Sayaka had slowly, gradually, felt it growing inside of her, numbing her as it washed away her extraneous emotions. The truth was always at her back, always stuck in her head subconsciously like part of a song she couldn't remember the name of. The_ truth_, the cold, undeniable conclusion had been coming, she can tell from her trembling hands and cracking voice, apathy had just been more powerful. And now that both of them have met, she almost remembers as Kyoko tries to reach her, how only a few days ago she had wished to reverse what she had done.

How ridiculous her thoughts had been, weren't they? Fixing a wish with a wish. How could she ever have thought that was who she is- was. Where she's going now, she won't have to think anymore. It won't even really be like fighting, she's prepared- she's accepted it.

Kyoko, don't try and help, she doesn't say, you should know better. They both should have known better. They never should have cared for one another, Sayaka almost thinks. Almost. They're fools, she and Kyoko- but Kyoko isn't as foolish as she is.

Sayaka's sure that none of them are ever going to learn to know better, but nobody will listen, and by now, there's no point in telling anyone. She has nobody to save, she did all she could, and she filled her quota of witches and their blood was hers that never fell and she's not even sure what she'd say to Kyubey anymore if she had the chance.

What she has to say now is all that's left in her mind, as if she's erasing herself slowly, but she recognizes herself all too well.

Kyoko should understand, and Sayaka recalls her father's story- it was this life that brought dreams to reality, this life that destroyed everything it touched, and as Sayaka looks into Kyoko's face- well concealed horror for a girl whose time still isn't up- she wonders if Kyoko can feel it, if she can feel her mistakes canceling each other out until all that's left is her soul and the consequences.

Even Sayaka, a witch's worst enemy, one of the knights of the universe, can't destroy consequences.

She hadn't thought she'd ever really need to think about that.

But she's not afraid, what does she have to fear now? She can barely see Kyoko through her blurred eyes and she thinks her face is wet as her gem- _cracks_- and Kyoko _screams _her name. I'm gone, she's gone, she can hear herself saying, I've been going for so long.

She really can feel. Hands guide her own, as they weld swords that fly with the conviction of all the girls before her, as they slink frantically across piano keys, fingers nervously banging down. The screaming fills her void, but not enough, keeps coming in as she feels herself eroding.

She's still empty. It's nothing she can't exist with, emptiness. She barely even exists anymore.

It's red like a full moon, blue as a clear night sky, melting into thousands of different hues, coloring her, she's fading- she vanishes into them. Maybe she doesn't have to be sorry, maybe they all have to- maybe none of them should be feeling emotions for each other when they'll just end up the way she is-it matters to them, to Kyoko- she knew who Kyoko was once. Too well and not well enough- that doesn't matter anymore. Nothing does, really.

She can feel her back arching and her legs melding and her head slowly lightening. Something matters. She doesn't remember what, she doesn't have to think about it, she can't- that burden isn't hers anymore. If she can't remember it, maybe it doesn't have to matter.

Please be right, she can almost hear herself say.

The music notes multiply in her vacancy, writing a song that could last until the end of the universe and never help anyone- you fool, that's all you're going to hear, now. What else is there to hear?

If any of them are listening, the last part of her euphorically considers, maybe they'll hear what it took too long for her to understand. Maybe they'll see their mistakes or honor their lost friend. Maybe they'll learn that needing a wish to come true only leads to more emptiness.

The song shrieks and rises, the song carries her away, but not too far into the sky, and a soul's difference apart-

Maybe they won't hear her at all. But her witch will. If she just lets go- it was all a mistake. There's no point in worrying anymore.

Ocktavia, the song howls, I know at least you'll understand.


End file.
